


Trust Issues

by Shaded Mazoku (Ashkaztra)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Interspecies, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 14:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkaztra/pseuds/Shaded%20Mazoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To learn to trust enough to let go of all defences is its own issue in itself. </p><p>Or, in which there is Wraith on human smut with little pretence of plot. Written for Porn Battle XIV, and the prompt <i>John Sheppard/Todd, bound, sweet, taste, release, feeding, giving, understanding, enzyme</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Issues

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally a porn fic. This happens on occasion. I was browsing the 'net, came across the newest porn battle and an inspiring prompt, realised I had about four hours to write something, and went "Well, surely I can manage a drabble". And then I ended up with two thousand words. I've been meaning to write more of this pairing, though, since I'm currently rewatching SGA (finally got it on Scandinavian Netflix, yay!), and this was apparently the kick I needed. 
> 
> We need more Wraith-porn on the 'net, anyway.

It begins like this: John, kneeling on the bed, every piece of his uniform stripped off of him and discarded, his arms held behind him and his eyes firmly shut. There are hands, cool and wickedly clawed, stroking along his skin, deceptively gentle. The hands are slow and languid in their motions, exploring and mapping the surface. Every mark and every scar is traced, traced and committed to memory. Sometimes, they linger for a moment, tracing over a particular mark. It happens twice, today, once on the scar on his neck, and once on his chest.

The cool, too-familiar feel of the hand on his chest brings back memories, and John jerks unconsciously, pulling back, eyes opening in alarm. Todd makes no verbal reply, just a soft whirring sound and moves his hand away from John's chest to stroke it down his back along his spine before coming to a rest on the small of his back, a comforting gesture despite the sharp claws resting lightly against the skin.

Shivering, John closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath, forcing himself into a state of artificial calmness. He needs this, craves it with his entire being, but he fears he'll collapse entirely the moment he lets himself think about what he's doing. Todd is often an ally, sometimes a friend, and occasionally something even more, but he is a Wraith. 

Trust doesn't come easy to John.

Todd knows that, which is why he treasures John like this, willing to give himself over despite everything.

John knows from experience how dangerous Wraith are up close, even when they're not hungry. Not hungry for food, at any rate. It says things about him he isn't comfortable facing that he's willing despite the danger involved.

Or maybe it's because of the danger.

Despite all the harm he could do, though, Todd never hurts him. He knows exactly how far he can push without going too far, and John, despite his misgivings, and despite his very nature, finds himself giving himself over again and again. 

Kneeling on the bed behind John, Todd slowly strokes his hands over his back, following the muscles with practised fingers. He leans in, his breath on John's neck, close enough that his lips are barely not touching the skin. 

Again, John shivers, fighting down the urge to move, or to flee. He tilts his head to the side instead, allowing better access and digs his nails into his skin where his hands are clasped behind his back. His eyes remain shut, letting him block out anything but the roaming touches and puffs of breath against his skin. 

Making a pleased sound, Todd flickers his tongue over John's skin, a wet and slightly raspy feel. As he does, he runs a hand down along John's arms until he reaches the point where the clasped hands are trembling slightly. He never speaks in these situations, but that doesn't mean he's not vocal about his appreciation. He gives a pleased purr and nip at the skin beneath his teeth, never coming close to breaking skin but just hard enough that John feels the razor-like points vividly. 

This time, when John arches, it's not in fear. 

Stroking John's hair in encouragement and affection, Todd moves away for a moment. When he returns, he slowly wraps John's wrists with what seems to be silk coils, pausing occasionally to let John adjust. Or protest, but he never does. As a reward, Todd runs his tongue along the rim of his ear, nipping at the lobe with the same carefully adjusted strength. 

Another piece of silk is carefully wrapped around John's head, covering his eyes entirely. Feeling unbalanced and entirely too vulnerable, John finds that he's trembling a little, his jaw clenching.

And then he's pulled back against Todd's chest, the strain and unbalance dispelled. The Wraith is colder to the touch than he is, and feels more alien than ever like this, all cool skin and sinewy muscle. The sheer strength in his body feels almost unreal, but John knows he could just go limp and Todd would still easily be able to hold him up. Though the same strength could do severe damage to him, it makes him feel safe to sit like that, halfway leaned against Todd. 

The hands are moving again, gently rubbing circles on John's skin, tracing idle patterns and symbols that John barely recognizes as being the Wraith alphabet. Even beneath the blindfold, John's eyes remain closed, enjoying the attention. Todd doesn't expect him to be in control of anything, and John is happy to just let go and let himself belong to the Wraith. 

Todd shifts slightly behind him, stretching out to fetch something, and John lies back and feels the muscles move, hears things being moved about. There's a sudden whiff of sweetness before something is held against his lips. Without hesitation, he opens his mouth and accepts the morsel. It's just fruit, the same peach-raspberry-like fruit served frequently in the mess, but it tastes better like this, having pieces fed to him. John happily eats the pieces he's fed, lapping the juice off of Todd's fingers, ever mindful of the sharp nails. 

The next piece he's fed is dipped in honey, rich and sweet and all too sticky in his mouth, hard to clean off of the fingers using his tongue. He finds himself having to use more effort, swirling his tongue around each finger tip, the taste of peach-raspberry and honey nearly masking the earthy flavour of the Wraith's skin, but only nearly. 

When there are no more fruit coming, John licks Todd's fingers clean once more, then follows the trail of juice and honey across the skin until his tongue flickers over the feeding slit in the middles of his palm. For a moment, he hesitates, but the pleased, warm purr Todd gives in encouragement wins over the instinctive hesitation. He licks across the opening, enjoying the stronger earthy flavour, and then gently dips his tongue inside. 

The organ responds to his attention, and enzyme flows freely against his tongue. It doesn't have much of a taste, a little like a combination of rust and moss, but not in a bad way, and it leaves his mouth feeling slightly numbed. Todd allows him to lavish attention on his feeding slit for a while before pulling his hand away, tangling it in John's hair to pull his head back and to the side, kissing him hard enough to leave John's mouth feeling bruised under the onslaught. 

John wants to pull his hands loose and cling to Todd, never letting go, but that isn't their agreement, and he knows it isn't what he needs to do. Instead he responds to the kiss as best he can, gasping down air when Todd lets him go. He has cut his tongue open on those sharp teeth before, and knows from experience that he doesn't care as long as he can let go like this. 

Purring in earnest now, entire body vibrating slightly as he does, Todd shifts again, using John's bound wrists to pull him into an upright sitting position. John stays still as best he can as Todd moves in front of him, claiming his mouth again for another kiss that seems to such the air from his lungs. Again, John finds himself gasping as Todd leans back into his throne of pillows. The Wraith runs his hand along John's jaw, encouraging him to let himself fall forwards. 

As always, Todd catches him, gently guiding him until he lies against his chest, his cheeks flushed and red-hot compared to the cool Wraith skin. Todd is still purring, the vibrations making John shudder in pleasure. He has done this for Todd, made the ancient warrior relaxed and aroused. 

It feels amazing.

There is little doubt of Todd's pleasure when they're pressed together like that. John is pressed against him, his stomach against his groin, and he can feel him getting hard. The friction feels nice, and John wants to move, wants to shift so he can grind himself against Todd to find his release, but he knows it will be better if he waits. 

Instead, he carefully pulls himself up into a kneeling position, shuffling back a little. It's awkward to move without the use of his hands, without seeing what he's doing, but he manages somehow, and leans in, trailing his tongue over the skin he finds. Todd vocalises his pleasure with another trilling purr, one hand finding its way into John's hair to guide him, making up for the vision he's deprived off. 

John would purr himself if he could, taking in the flavour of earthy musk on Todd's skin. His licks slowly take him further down the Wraith's torso, down from the chest across the stomach and down further. This is not something Todd had suggested at first, not something that comes naturally to a race with razor-like teeth, but he has come to love it as much as John loves doing this for him.

Todd is ancient beyond what humans can ever imagine, ancient and alien, and John loves the fact that he can make him come undone, make him show parts of himself few others ever do. 

He has given himself into the Wraith's hands willingly. This is where that trust is returned.

There's no chance of taking all of Todd's cock into his mouth. The Wraith is large, and there are ridges that aren't there in humans, but John simply takes as much as it as he can, swirling his tongue around the tip like he did the fingers earlier. If his hands were free, it'd be much easier, but John doesn't hesitate, just gets into a rhythm and keeps moving, even when Todd's grip on his hair tightens almost painfully. Swallowing around the cock, John uses every ounce of concentration he can muster, trying hard not to let the sensations get to his head. 

When Todd finally comes, hissing in pleasure and pulling on John's hair again, John's jaw is getting sore and he chokes a little, swallowing what he can. It tastes like the enzyme, metallic and earthy at once. It's not a bad taste. 

Letting go of John's hair, Todd pulls him into his lap to straddle him, kissing him again. John leans into the kiss and hisses into it as Todd's hand ends up between them, finding his neglected cock. Worked up as he is, John doesn't take long to reach his own orgasm, especially not when Todd lightly runs his sharp nails along the underside of the shaft. Giving a moan that is lost in their kisses, John comes, gasping in pleasure.

Guiding him to lie against his neck, Todd allows him some time to regain himself before moving to cut the coils away from his wrists. Lazily, John pulls his arms back in front of him and winces a little as his shoulders protest their treatment. By now, he knows it'll fade soon enough, but it's still a little sore.

Using the silk scraps to wipe off the worst of the mess, Todd tosses them aside and shifts around, finding a more comfortable position, and goes back to stroking John's skin gently, rubbing soothing circles in tense musculature. He makes no move to remove the blindfold, not with John's hands free. John doesn't, either. He'll remove it later, when he feels ready to be the military commander of Atlantis again, not just John. 

He loves his job, and he loves his people, and he'll never be ready to give them up. It is nice to have someone who understands his need to occasionally let go, though, and who is willing to take him there. That sort of trust can't be demanded. It has to be earned, and given freely in return. 

Soon, he'll go back out the door and into whatever insane situation Atlantis has to offer him next. 

Smiling, he tucks himself against Todd's neck, pleased when the Wraith shifts to allow it, never missing a single stroke.

And now he knows he'll be ready to deal with that insanity.


End file.
